Closing his eyes, Ryan sought out the end of the mating bond glowing brilliant white in his mind, which led directly to hers. With vicious ruthlessness, he forced power through the end of the bond lodged in his mind and shattered their link completely. He would have dropped to his knees at the loss if he didn’t have so many things to fix because of his so-called mating. Perhaps one day he’d let himself feel the loss. It would not be this day.
“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing, Commander Morgan? It’s not like you not to even verify a source of information before arbitrarily believing and acting on it with less than five minutes of thought on a subject.”
“It hurts too much to think about it. It’s why I have Mikel meeting me inside the rebel base rather than here.”
“And in the meantime, if this report is a vicious lie, you’ve destroyed not only the best relationship you’ve ever had, but the woman, too. I hope you find that you’ve made the right decision, but something tells me, this morning events are going to haunt you for the rest of your very long life.”
With those final words, Contessa grew silent, and Ryan ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Walking past the Commander’s chair where his world went to hell, he returned to his private quarters and washed Liana’s scent from his skin the best he could. It may take years before the mating mark would fade completely, but by the Goddess, he’d start removing it today.
* * * *
Liana sat in stunned silence as she stared in her microscope, shuddering and quaking at the loss of the mating bond. It felt like someone gouged a huge hole through her mind, heart and soul, simultaneously. Well, at least something had come from this lousy day. She’d found the cure to the fertility problems. A simple set of inoculations would begin to even out the birth rate and finally allow women to have children, female children, of their own.
Ryan wouldn’t believe her if she tried to give him this data, would instead accuse her of setting up another biological weapon that would continue to kill off the Chantreans. There was no one and nothing left for her here. After picking up a pen, she drafted a quick note to Amy, letting the tears fall. It’s all she had left of a relationship she thought, hoped, would last forever.
Dearest Amy,
Over the years, you have been the only true friend I have ever known, and it has been a privilege to get to know you and your family, to be considered a true friend to you and yours. You know how I was able to ensure your pregnancy, but now I’ve created a stable formula using my own antibodies as before, but on a much grander scale. You should have enough prepared formula in this box to inoculate everyone on your ship. I’ve also included instructions on how to make more. You must follow the directions precisely. Included in a third package inside this box are four units of my blood—which can be cloned into thousands more with the technology the Manruvians have on hand—to use to develop more formula. It shouldn’t take but a few weeks to mass-produce enough to cure the populations on both Chantrea and Manruvia. Eventually, this cure should be put in an aerosol form and in food and water supplies, spread throughout as much as the galaxy as possible to make all our planets healthy again, not just its people. I believe the Mother Goddess would approve of that plan, or at least I hope she will.
It was wonderful knowing you, even if only for a short time. I cannot feel the link to your brother any longer. I see he found no reason or desire to delay separating us as a couple. I won’t defend myself, but if he could so easily see treachery in me without even asking me a single question, then he never loved me at all. I’ll not live with a mate, nor fight to stay with one who can distrust so easily and hate me so quickly.
To me, you will always me my sister. I go to my Goddess now and shelter in her arms. I’m finally warm and cherished, Amy, so don’t worry for me. My heart overflows with hope that with this, my final act, your people will become what they always should have been: Happy, Healthy, Fertile and Strong. All my love in this life and beyond… I’m too tired to write a separate letter to Hunter and Mikel. My time has come. Goodbye, my friend.
Forever Yours,
L
As she penned the note for Hunter and Amy Shi’Lan as well as Mikel of Manruvia, she continued to allow her blood to flow from her arms into the donation/plasma bags she discovered in the medical lab. Filling up the pints they’d need to reproduce the cure in enough quantities to heal the masses was her one last mission. She may not have ended up with the love of her life, but in the end, her life could be worth something. She’d rather die giving the Chantreans and Manruvians a cure than hanging on the end of a traitor’s hangman’s noose where the antibodies in her blood could heal no one, help no one. At the time she realized her blood could be formulated into a stable cure, she’d pictured donating a pint of blood a week until they had enough to start cloning it, but with the glaring absence of her mating bond, she didn’t have several weeks to accomplish her task. Already her life-force waned, slowly coming to a painful end as her body and soul mourned the loss of its mate.
Besides, she couldn’t look Ryan Morgan in the eye while he ordered her death. That would shatter her completely—not that she was doing well just now. If she’d done nothing else in life, she’d helped saved two societies, and however pitifully sad her mating had turned out, she’d learned to love with her whole heart—something she’d never dared hope to experience. A miracle despite the loss she now felt.
Once finished filling the plasma bags with her life-saving blood, she put her package together, then Liana focused on Amy’s face. Using all her strength, every bit of will she had left, she transported the package with the cure directly to Amy’s bedside table—a gift that no one knew she had, a gift that would never be discovered by another. Amy would just assume she’d used the Retribution’s teleportation equipment and that would be the end of it. Her secret would go with her to her grave.
She could feel the lesions in her brains opening up, her head drowning in blood, and she just didn’t care. Laying her head down atop her folded arms, she closed her eyes. She’d lost the one person who ever meant anything to her, through no fault of her own, but even in death she couldn’t punish those that needed her the most. She did not regret speeding up her demise by sending the package telepathically.
With a small, sad smile tilting up her lips, Liana let the darkness take her, down, down, down into the warmth, and drifted ever so slowly away from the pain, finally finding a place of rest. Finally! No more pain. No more fear. No more disgust or hatred—just an empty bliss of pure nothingness. She couldn’t ask for anything more.
Chapter Sixteen
Shaking her head at the stupidity happening below her, the Goddess Alana sighed, then opened her inner eye to more closely watch the scene playing out above the Manruvian moon. Though she had known this would happen, it did not make it easier seeing such sadness come to pass. She knew she would intervene—for the entire galaxy needed Liana—but would she allow the male to know what had happened so he could attempt to correct his mistake? Or should she let him believe that Liana was lost to him forever and take her away? In the end, she had more than just one relationship, one mating pair, to consider, she had an entire universe at the mercy of a disease she could not have prevented because the alternative would have been so much worse for her children.
The Mother Goddess Alana shook her head, still undecided, and flashed aboard the ship, ready to intervene. All that really mattered at this particular moment was making sure that Liana lived through the next few minutes. Beyond that, she’d wait and take her cues from her daughter as to what to do with her frustrating male.
Even knowing what she’d find, the goddess’ heart almost stopped when she spotted Liana sprawled on the medical bay floor. Her normally burnished gold skin had become almost white. Her lips had even begun to turn blue from lack of oxygen. If she didn’t step in now, her daughter would be dead in moments. Kneeling on the floor next to Liana, she placed her hand on Liana’s forehead and closed her eyes, concentrating
as she sent a pulse of energy directly into the female’s mind, healing the lesions as she also attempted to encourage her red blood cells to multiply.
What should have taken only a moment to heal was taking much longer because Liana had already given up—her will to live had disappeared with the devastating loss of the mate bond—something the goddess was sure Ryan Morgan hadn’t thought about when he cruelly severed their bond. If he didn’t reestablish the bond between him and his mate, they would both end up dying, regardless of what she did to save Liana now—unless she intervened on their behalf. Had he forgotten that once mated, losing your mate was a death sentence? Or had he thought since he severed the bond and his mate still lived he’d avoid that outcome? Or had he not thought at all, and just reacted?
Even living as long as she had, knowing as much as she did about the way the universe worked, the Mother Goddess still did not completely understand the working of the male mind.
Shaking her head, she went back to healing Liana, and was still bent over her still form when the door to the medical bay opened with a low hiss. She didn’t need to be a goddess to know who stood there. She could smell the male’s panic, the scent of the female mixed with the male’s, despite the odor of cleanser that coated his skin.
“What are you doing to her? Who are you and how did you get in here?” the male asked, his voice curiously husky as he knelt on the other side of his unconscious mate.
She didn’t bother looking up or greeting him—nor would she until she felt satisfied Liana would live. Only when she knew with absolute certainty that Liana’s body would continue the repairs on its own did she open her eyes and meet Ryan’s angry brown gaze. What she saw in his protective posture and read in his worried thoughts gave Alana some hope for the future—more than she’d had just minutes ago. She’d wait and see what the male said—how Liana reacted to his plans before deciding what to do about their future. She’d suffered enough in her young life and the Mother Goddess would not allow anyone to hurt her again—even unintentionally.
* * * *
Ryan stared out into the blackness of space, seeing nothing of the stark beauty that had never failed before to awe him with its vast majesty. He saw nothing beyond the pain in his mate’s eyes as he’d rejected her. He felt naught but the agonizing sense of loss and emptiness where Liana’s presence, her warmth, used to reside in his heart. He felt empty—scraped raw from the inside out.
As he waited for the appointed time to meet High Prince Mikel Logann of Manruvia on the moon below, he thought back over the last two hours, to that moment when his entire world seemed to crash down around him. Again, he thought of the expression in Liana’s eyes as he’d read the missive from the Manruvia’s security chief, as he let the words sink into his psyche. His mind paused on the moments before she walked out of the Command Deck, her feelings of betrayal at his rejection of her and their bond, and finally her stoic departure as glistening tears trailed down her cheek and the doors slid closed behind her.
With time and distance giving him a better prospective, he finally began to doubt what he’d read, to take the time to actually analyze recent events. He’d been connected to Liana—mind to mind, heart to heart, soul to soul, as hokey as that sounded—and though he hadn’t known her long, in the short time he’d been a part of her and she of him, at no time had he doubted her absolute sincerity in helping the Chantrean people. He’d thought, in fact, that he’d never met a person as giving and truly compassionate as she. Could she really be as cruel and downright evil as the missive reported, and hide those personality traits from her own mate?
Ryan shook his head and started to pace the confines of his quarters. Back and forth. Back and forth. As the minutes passed, one after another, a sense of shame and guilt crept into his mind, his heart.
Dropping onto the end of the bed, Ryan lowered his head into his hands and admitted to himself a truth he could no longer deny. He’d let his past—his distrust of women in general because of his captivity by the Black Rose—taint his present. He could blame no one but himself for the destruction of the most important thing in his life—the relationship with his one true mate. How could he ever make this right again? He couldn’t even blame Mikel’s Security Chief—though he would have to investigate the false report—because he should have trusted his mate. He should have talked to her about it rather than arbitrarily believing the report so instantaneously. How could she ever forgive him for screwing up so completely? If the situation were reversed, he didn’t know if he could do the same. Would Liana’s empathic abilities help or hinder reconciliation between them? He just didn’t know.
Even now, the aching sense of loss and despondency continued to dig and claw its way through his soul, spreading like a malignant cancer, leaving crippling pain in its wake. His heart actually hurt as it throbbed in his chest. The longer he stayed away from Liana, the more he hurt and the more desperate he became to see her, touch her. He had to know that she was safe.
More than that, he had to earn back her trust. Somehow. Despite not knowing exactly how he’d make things right, he couldn’t sit here alone in his bachelor quarters a minute longer without seeing her.
Taking a deep breath, he straightened his spine and looked up toward the speakers hidden near the ceiling, seamlessly blending into the décor of the crown molding. “Contessa, where is Liana Peterson?”
“She’s in the Medical Bay. The Quarantine Protocol is currently in effect, but Dr. Peterson hasn’t accessed any of the ship’s critical systems. As Retribution is in no danger and she is unable to transport from her location, I have not overridden the security protocols currently running.”
Ryan jumped to his feet and ran to the door, racing toward the medical bay and his woman. “Why did she implement the Quarantine Protocol, Contessa?” he asked, his voice breathless as he sprinted toward the lift that would carry him to the deck where the Medical Bay was located.
“I apologize, Commander Morgan. Without more data, I cannot answer your inquiry.”
“Then make an educated guess,” he demanded as he punched the wall of the lift in frustration and worry. Ryan closed his eyes and prayed the lift would descend faster. He needed to get to the Medical Bay and he needed to be there now.
“Perhaps she wanted to grieve where she could not be disturbed. As an Empath, even without the Mate Bond, she could feel everything you did. Probabilities are high the loss of the bond could be debilitating with her abilities.”
Ryan winced, hung his head in despair. By the Goddess, how could he have hurt his own mate in such a way? She was the other half of his soul.
Once the lift stopped, he leapt through the door before it fully opened, an irrational sense of urgency spurring him on. Irrational because without the Mate Bond connecting them, he should not be able to sense Liana at all and yet…somehow, he knew without a doubt that something had gone desperately wrong inside that locked room. Something life-altering. How he felt certain of that, he didn’t know and didn’t have time to analyze it.
He increased his pace yet again, until could run no faster in his human form. Within moments, he skidded to a stop at the entrance to the Medical Bay. When he pressed his palm against the security pad, nothing happened. The door didn’t open. Apparently, the Quarantine Protocol locked him out as well, despite being ship’s Commander, keeping Retribution’s Medical Bay in lock-down.
“Contessa, override security protocol QUA-Alpha, authorization code 47932765Omega3.”
“Authorization approved. Releasing door now.”
Ryan breathed a sigh of relief as the doors hissed, indicating the seals had been broken. When the door slid open, his heart stuttered to a stop before kick starting into a thundering pace. Panic overwhelmed him as he spied his mate sprawled across the floor, a woman—an intruder—crouched over her.
“Who are you? What are you doing in here?” Despite his need to get to Liana, to ensure she still lived, he could not seem to make his feet move. Frozen in the doorway, he c
ould not take a single step toward his woman. Why? Why couldn’t he move?
He needed to get to Liana. Who knew what the stranger was doing to her. He had to protect his mate. No matter what he’d done earlier, no matter their Mate Bond no longer existed, she was still his mate whether she accepted him back or not, and he’d do whatever he must to ensure her safety. Somehow, someway, he’d earn her trust back, he’d convince her that he couldn’t live without her—didn’t want to live without her. But first, he had to get to her. Somehow.
Suddenly, he body became his own again, allowing him to approach his mate and the woman still crouched over her. Smelling blood, Ryan’s eyes widened as he saw for the first time the sluggishly bleeding punctures in both her wrists, the discarded, bloody tubing lying next to Liana’s prone body.
Kneeling next to his unconscious mate, he ran his trembling fingers through her long brown hair. Her breathing was too shallow, erratic and choppy. He could hear her sputtering heart throbbing painfully slow in her chest. What had gone on in here? What had happened to his woman?
As he watched, the stranger’s hands began to glow as they pressed against the open wounds on Liana’s wrists. Amazed, Ryan watched the wounds heal, faster even than they normally did for their kind.
“Who are you?” he repeated to the beautiful redheaded intruder, thankful for her assistance despite her uninvited presence aboard his ship.
The woman continued to ignore him and his questions, keeping her head bent over Liana, her hands now hovering one over her chest, the other his mate’s head. As he watched, worry and grief gnawed relentlessly at his gut. Liana’s color slowly improved, losing the pale, corpse-like sheen until she glowed with warmth and vitality again. Even her breathing and heart rate drastically improved so she appeared to be taking a nap. If he hadn’t seen it himself, he never would have believed there had ever been anything wrong with his mate. But he had witnessed this miracle and that demanded answers.
Worlds Apart 4: Ryan's Hope Page 10
